Roar
by The Partner In Cream
Summary: Arthur Kirkland was just one person. It's not possible to carry that much guilt in just one man. Drabble, AU, disclaimer inside. Suggestions of violence if you squint, nothing too serious.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters.**

* * *

-ROAR-

He could hear his name being chanted over and over and over again, so much that he could no longer stand it

ARTHUR, ARTHUR, ARTHUR.

His name was Arthur Kirkland, and he was the Champion of the Lower Peoples.

ARTHUR, ARTHUR, ARTHUR.

The whole colosseum rumbled with the stomping of feet, the call of impatient, desperate voices.

ARTHUR, ARTHUR, ARTHUR.

The grimy walls of the room around him shook, as if it, too, were trembling with supposed excitement. The lightbulb above swung precariously, light shifting constantly.

ARTHUR, ARTHUR, ARTHUR.

His heartbeat quickened; it was almost time. Eyelids flitted shut, breathing quickened, one lone tear escaped closed eyes. His armor was no more, his strength drained, heart shattered, mind teetering on the edge of insanity. Blonde hair was slick with sweat and blood, hands covered in bright red blisters. His once admired face was untouched by weapon of man.

He no longer wanted to do this, no. His body ached, and he could no longer take any more lives for the sake of people's entertainment. For _their_ entertainment. He could almost see their seats made of gold perched above the bloody arena, like a hawk poised to strike at the helpless mouse. Spindly thrones shining brightly in the harsh lights, their uncaring faces, cruel smirks as another fell. No longer, no more, NO!

* * *

His name was Arthur Kirkland, and he was the Champion of the Lower Peoples. That was the title he had been given, not claimed. That was the title that held his family's life, his only refuge from the cruel, insane world he was currently trapped in. Sword strapped loosely to his side, green eyes alert, he was guided to the arena. No one spoke, no one tried to. They knew he was to die; no one had ever made it this far. And the Superiorem did not take shame lightly.

ARTHUR, ARTHUR, ARTHUR.

This is where he made his mark, where he either died or lived to feel the sun warm his face. This is where it would be determined if children years from now would speak his name with honor, not shame. This is where everything mattered, where relationships either helped or led to your end. Rules thrown aside, morals forgotten, dignity killed. His lips curled into a sadistic, yet familiar smile. This was his home, and it was his alone.

SNAP.

The arena beckoned him, called his name with the crowd. How could he refuse?

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**the Lower Peoples: those who work for their money, usually located in the slums although some live in the homes of their Employers. They are most likely working for the Superiorem; some have gotten lucky enough to be quite rich in Lower Peoples standards**

**the Superiorem: Latin for "upper." A higher class society, usually royalty and its supporters. They are used to being regarded as gods almost because of the wide gap that separates them from the Lower Peoples. They are usually born into that class although some richer Peoples have gotten to be low ranking Superiorem. The highest class is made of four people, two men, two women:  
**  
**-Ivan Braginski***  
**-Natalya Arlovskaya***  
**-Chun-Yan Wang+**  
**-Gilbert Beilschmidt**

**Author's Note:  
Ivan and Natalya are siblings (Belarus and Russia) and Chun-Yan Wang is the Nyotalia/Gender-bent version of China. Gilbert is Prussia. Just because they're in the highest class in the Superiorem doesn't mean that they are necessarily evil or unjust. When Arthur (England) is referring to their smiles, he is just referring to a few of them, and by them I mean the entire Superiorem. That's around twenty people. His family is made of Francis (France), Alfred (America), and Madeline (Fem!Canada). I understand that you probably don't need this information because none of previous mentioned people are actually _in_ this drabble, but to me, it just helps visualize what he's going through if I put some faces to the name.**

**-mariches**


End file.
